


Dragon Fire

by Rosewood_Writes



Series: Tales of the Fallen: Shorts and Fillers [1]
Category: Elder Scrolls, Elder Scrolls V: Skyrim
Genre: Gen, Injury, Mild Gore, Skyrim Main Quest
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-28
Updated: 2018-11-28
Packaged: 2019-09-01 21:35:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,244
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16773373
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Rosewood_Writes/pseuds/Rosewood_Writes
Summary: Helgen. End of the line for imperial prisoners. Or so Fenedath asumed when they rode through the gates. Things quickly turn to chaos when a dragon attacks the keep.





	Dragon Fire

The world was on fire. All around them, fire rained down from above as the dragon terrorized the keep. Fenedath pulled Miana closer against the wall, desperately trying to burn the ropes around his wrists so he could free her. She slumped against the wall, breathing hard as she watched on with wide eyes.  
Part of him didn’t believe any of this was real. It was just too perfectly timed to be anything but fantasy. The imperials had Ulfric Stormcloak in custody, and were about to finally end the rebellion. Just as the Thalmor had spotted Fenedath, smiling wickedly at him for their good fortune, the dragon had appeared. Chaos reigned. Ulfric and his stormcloaks were free to escape, as were he and Miana.  
“Come on, Old man; before those Thalmor goons spot us again,” Miana muttered urgently. She kept scanning the area for any sight of them. Finally, Fenedath managed to ignite the rope. As the rope fell to ash, he quickly untied Miana and looked about, ready to figure out their escape route. The carriage they had come on was still standing. He made a dash for it, digging through the bags to find their belongings.  
With a relieved sigh, he pulled their bags and Miana’s sword from the pile. To his dismay, his sword was not there. Shouting snapped him out of his desperate search for his blade. Strapping Miana’s sword to his waist, he leapt down from the carriage and looked around, trying to figure out their best route of escape.  
“Hey, Elf! In here! The gods won’t give us another chance!”  
Fenedath looked over at the stormcloak waving to them from the entryway of one of the stone towers. Wrapping his arm firmly around Miana, they ran for cover. With a sigh of relief, Fenedath stopped in the center of the tower and helped Miana sit down. He slung his pack off lifting up her tunic to check on her side. Her hands were bloody, and the bandages were soaked clean through with fresh blood. A faint odor came from the bandages, signs that an infection was setting in.  
“How are you holding up, Lass?” He asked her as he went to cut away the bandages. She pushed his hands away, shaking her head.  
“We need to get to safety first, Fen. I’ll be fine.”  
“Miana, if I let that infection get any worse---”  
“---If we go up in flames, the infection won’t matter, then, will it?” She gave him a stern look. “I can make it.”  
He looked over at the stormcloaks huddled on the opposite side of the tower. They were all muttering to each other in frantic voices. Their leader, Ulfric, cleared his throat to silence the lot. After a few short words, his men nodded in agreement.  
“We need to move, now! Up through the tower,” Ulfric commanded. The other stormcloaks leapt to their feet. Fenedath shuddered as the tower rumbled. The dragon’s cry shook the building as it flew overhead. He pulled Miana to her feet, holding her close beside him.  
Ulfric stopped halfway up the stairs when the tower shook again. All the men froze, terror stricken faces turning upwards as they heard the sound of wingbeats buffeting the tower.  
Thwump….  
Thwump….  
The tower trembled as something collided with the building. Ulfric slowly backed down the stairs. Fenedath began to form the words of a ward as another impact rattled the tower. Several men upstairs screamed as a cloud of dust and rock flew down the stairs.  
“Everybody down!” Fenedath shouted. The stormcloaks ducked as he cast the ward. Only seconds later, flames engulfed the upper level, beating against his ward as he contained the fire. Fenedath grimaced as the ward began to steadily sap his strength. With a final rattle, the building fell silent. The sound of the dragon’s wings grew distant. With a weary sigh, he released the ward.  
“Everyone up! Let’s keep moving, Ulfric shouted. He lead the way up the stairs, raising a hand to cover his nose as they stepped into the charred remnants of the second floor. Those who hadn’t been crushed by the stone flying inwards had been decimated by the flames. The stairs to the next level were blocked by rubble. Fenedath looked away, his stomach churning.  
“Down there! We could jump down to that building,” One of the soldiers pointed out of the gaping hole the dragon had left. Ulfric followed his gaze and nodded. “Everyone, jump! One at a time. The wounded will go last.”  
One by one, the stormcloaks jumped down to the building below. Once the strongest had made it, they began tossing over what few bags of supplies they had. Ulfric looked over his shoulder at Fenedath before he jumped.  
“You, too, Elf.” He grunted at him before he jumped. Fenedath shouldered both of their packs and gave Miana a oncever before he readied himself to jump. Taking a few steps back, he made a running jump. He grunted as his feet hit the wooden floor and rolled to lessen the impact. With a sigh of relief he looked up at Miana as she stood on the edge, judging the distance.  
“You can make it, Lass,” Fenedath called to her.  
“Looked a lot easier watching you do it, Old Man,” She grimaced. After a second of hesitation, she took several steps back and leapt from the building. Fenedath stood aside as she landed. She coughed as she rolled, clutching her stomach as she tried to regain her breath. “I felt that.” She wheezed.  
The last of the stormcloaks made their jump. Fenedath pulled Miana to her feet, taking up their packs again as they followed the group down the stairs to the ground level. Ulfric led his men along the shadows of the buildings, eyes glued to the sky as they krept along, hoping to stay hidden.  
Shouting to his right caught Fenedath’s attention. An imperial soldier was guiding a group of civilians, shouting orders and encouragement as they stumbled and ran.  
“This way! We’re almost there!” The soldier cried. He motioned for the boy that stood in the road, looking around at the chaos with wide eyes. He was frozen in place, the madness overwhelming him. The man behind him gave him a few gentle pushes to get him going again. “Come on, Hamming. You’re doing great.”  
The boy started running again. The soldier started backing up. His face went slack when a terrifying shriek pierced the air. Fenedath took a step back as the dragon landed in the road. It’s malicious eyes took the lot of them in, baring its fangs as it let out a low, throaty growl. Fenedath could have sworn it was looking straight at him.  
“Gods… Everyone back!” The soldier grabbed the boy and ducked behind the wall with the rest of the civilians. Fenedath pulled Miana back into the house to take cover. A jet of fire illuminated the street as the dragon torched those who hadn’t found a place to hide. Once he was sure the dragon was gone, Fenedath led Miana back out into the streets. He looked to his left, but the stormcloaks had disappeared. So much for sneaking out with them.  
“Everyone, this way!” The soldier ordered as he checked to make sure they were clear. He looked over at them and motioned for them to follow. “Still alive, Prisoners? Stick close if you want to stay that way.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thanks for reading! Be sure to check out the full length fic for more of Fenedath and his shenanigans across Skyrim!.


End file.
